


Spring Arrives

by gaytypo



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Souji leaving Inaba angst, Souyo Week 2019, there's a few cuss words again folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:43:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaytypo/pseuds/gaytypo
Summary: The great thing about the seasons changing is that the days are getting longer. It makes it feel less like my time with Souji is running out. And when Nanako smiles and exclaims that we should spend all of the daylight on the banks of the Samegawa, rolling down the hill, playing tag, doing whatever comes to mind first, I almost forget to savor the still air of spring while Souji still breathes it.





	Spring Arrives

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I'm sorry that the first person sounds a little weird. For like a solid year in my developmental period, all I wrote was second-person homestuck fics. I'm trying to get away from the voice in my brain that says you/your.

The great thing about the seasons changing is that the days are getting longer. It makes it feel less like my time with Souji is running out. And when Nanako smiles and exclaims that we should spend all of the daylight on the banks of the Samegawa, rolling down the hill, playing tag, doing whatever comes to mind first, I almost forget to savor the still air of spring while Souji still breathes it.

Waxing poetic for him is so lame. I try to remind everyone in the team that he’s not dying or anything. But still, we are all at his memorial service, failing to come up with small talk to distract from the elephant—or rather, coffin—in the center of the room. Sometimes the only thing keeping us from moping is trying to cheer the others up. After all, we’ve all become a new person with Souji in our lives. What happens to that person when he leaves?

I think we worry most about Nanako. You know how the little kids at funerals don’t understand what’s going on? How they ask why the person is sleeping in the weird bed, or get sick of wearing fancy clothes and not being allowed to play? Nanako isn’t that kid. She’s smart. She knows when things are going on. And even though we all know she’s resilient, we have to worry that she hasn’t said a word about it all. Souji worries about her the most. He didn’t really appreciate it when I said I’d be the replacement Big Bro, and I’d be so good at it that she wouldn’t even miss him. Maybe the joke was ill-timed.

It’s better to just sit here on the grass, holding Souji’s right hand while Nanako leans into his left. I wonder if the same impulse goes through her mind to just hold onto him and never let go. Probably not. She’s more rational than me. Smarter. It doesn’t take a detective’s daughter to infer that Souji would just shake us off and remind us of his other responsibilities. Of our own. He wouldn’t even do it in a way I could be mad about. I’d just nod dumbly and agree.

Speaking of the responsible asshole, he thinks it’s dinner time, so we get up and head back. Dojima ordered Aiya’s and it might be there by the time we get back. Maybe if I eat Aiya’s every day he’s gone I won’t be able to be sad. Or maybe I’ll just wish he’s there to enjoy it with me.

God! This is so dumb. I tell him as much. Then I realize that he has no idea what is so dumb since all of these thoughts have been internal before now. “I was being dumb and mopey,” I explain.

He nods, an edge of solemness to his expression.

There’s no time for his sage wisdom, though. Nanako provides it faster: “It’s not dumb to be sad, Yosuke-nii. What’s dumb is to be quiet about it when we can talk to you and make you happy again.”

“You’re right, Nanako. I think what would make me especially happy right now is watching you guys play trivia. Race you home?”

“You bet!” She laughs before taking off.

I hesitate and look at Souji. He does a little shoo motion so I follow. As per usual, he’s content to watch. I’d say the game of tag earlier wore him out, but that would be a harsh misrepresentation of his stamina. The shadow world has proven as much.

It’s not so much that she won… but she had a big headstart and all and… Yeah, no. She won.

 

Things get a little awkward later in the night.  _ I  _ know already that I planned to stay the night. But apparently Dojima forgot that Souji told him before work and asks when I’m heading out. It’s getting pretty late after all. Nanako has to get ready for bed. Souji reminds him that I’m here to stay. I can’t stop thinking about getting away from this living room. Oh to be playing games at all available times.

 

When we’re finally alone, Souji says he’s a bit tired for games. Blue light hurting the eyes and all that nonsense. He puts out the futons quietly while I change into pajamas. It’s peaceful. Perhaps it’s the better way to conclude a day of outdoors adventure.

He hasn’t said much all day. However, given the trend of late-night phone calls and heart-to-hearts, it’s likely that he’ll crack in any second. Expecting emotions, I get comfy on the futon, then turn to him and hold out my arms. It takes him only a moment to hop in them. Cuddling is one of my favorite ways to make the problems go away.

“Are you still mopey?” he asks.

“How can I be?” I respond. “I’ve got a beautiful man in my arms.”

He hums to himself and leans his head on my other shoulder. “That’s good.” For an instance, that seems like the end of the conversation. Then, he speaks up again, “I think Nanako already said it pretty well, but you know if you’re sad you can talk to me. More than that. You can talk to me about anything. I’m better at listening than responding, but I think if you had a problem with that, we wouldn’t be in this position.”

The sentiment is nice. He’s no joker, but he’s latched onto the idea that that’s my only coping mechanism. Other than him, that is. “Of course I’ll talk to you, dork. I’m the main bitch that’ll be blowing up your phone from now on.”

“I don’t know about  _ from now on _ . It’s been like that for a while.”

“ _ What?! _ No way. Other people must text you all the time. I know some of the IT team is the quiet type, but come on. Not even Rise?”

“Rise wouldn’t be caught dead triple texting like you. She  _ tries  _ not to sound desperate.”

“Take that back! I do not sound more desperate than her! You should see when she invites Naoto to go  _ anywhere _ . She uses puppy-dog eyes at the drop of the hat.”

“And you don’t?”

“Baaaaabe. Turn around so I can kiss you to make you stop being mean.”

And he does turn around.

And I do kiss him.

And we kiss like the idiotic teenagers we are who act like just because high school is dwindling, so is our lives. We kiss like we’re counting the times we’ve been cheek-to-cheek with death in brushes of lips and teeth and  _ tongue _ . I kiss a promise into each, counting phone calls and visits and letters and gifts that will be sent. He receives each with the warmth that will keep us together when we’re apart.

He kisses my nose and my cheeks and my forehead. Soft. Cute. I can’t get over how he treats me like I’m the whole world sometimes.

I kiss his jaw and neck and scars. Kissing hot like a brand not of ownership but of open-mouthed love.

Lips meet again, and I remember that there will be more of this. His parents can try all they like to pull him away, but I’m young and in love and so incredibly stupid and will always find the way to my partner.


End file.
